


Understanding

by TheHunter14



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Geth, POV Multiple, Post-Canon, Post-Mass Effect 3, Post-Rannoch, Quarians, Spoilers, Synthesis Ending, post-Synthesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 13:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHunter14/pseuds/TheHunter14
Summary: A look into the Geth perspective after Rannoch and post-Synthesis. Five standard Geth units and a Geth Prime go to the Citadel to help stranded Quarians who do not know about the Geth/Quarian peace yet.Each chapter progresses the story but perspective changes between each of the 6 Geth.





	1. Valtek

Valtek had its optics dilate as they adjusted to the dim lighting of the cybernetics within the superstructure. The Creators had requested help from the used-to-be-migrant Fleet, who then requested Valtek and its current technical assistance squad. It supposed it was a wise choice to send it and some other geth units to aid the Creators--their ability to not be affected by lack of air or gravity that they might encounter on the broken Citadel is helpful-- though the obvious conflict that would arise when the Creators found out would be problematic.

Valtek and the other geth units with it had come from the post-conflict Rannoch with the Geth-Creator peace struggling to not be broken by mistrust.

The Creators they were going to assist had been on the Citadel trying to gain support for the Migrant Fleet. However, they had been largely unsuccessful since many organics were watching out for themselves. Valtek understood them for being selfish, but doesn’t approve. They all must work together to secure their future.

It and the other geth units are flying to the Citadel onboard a generous Capital Old Machine who had been gathering passengers to specifically deliver them to the Citadel, which had become the temporary head of government for all species--not just council races.

The Old Machine has traveled to the Kepler Verge, Hades Nexus, Styx Theta, the Far Rim, and the Perseus Veil. It would land, sending out a quiet message through the cybernetics they all share, talking to and picking up refugees, soldiers, humanitarian aid workers, and occasional pirates who were desperate enough to leave their worlds of destruction and ruin by boarding their former enemy.

[Valtek in the Reaper (Art by me)](https://www.deviantart.com/creepypasta-tomboy/art/Valtek-793891313)

 

Valtek didn’t remember consciously what it was like to be under Old Machine influence on Rannoch, but it remembered when the signal was first broadcasted through their servers, a presence building up in its own hardware and software, a presence so immense it felt like a blade of grass in the life-killing shadow of a mountain.

The mountain it was standing in.

Turning its thought processes to less philosophical and more priority matters, it lifted its brow plates and legs, stretching out its mobile platform to prevent stiffening of joints, even though it was well aware the last 13 hours would have done nothing to cause that.

It had noticed it was doing what many organics on blogs through the extranet described as “nervous ticks”, though there was no way its runtimes would have dedicated processing power of its mobile platform to do something so unnecessary and… organic. Though, with the sacrifice of Legion and synthesis, it couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t part organic in intelligence and habit.

It was the first time since its creation that it didn’t fully understand what--or who--it was. It had even adopted a name--Valtek--though it tried to reason with its more basic runtimes that it was to make organics interact with it more comfortably, ‘you understand organics not act like them’ his basic runtimes would say. ‘Or maybe it is to make you more comfortable around organics’, its upgraded higher processes argued.

It needed some time to ponder who it was later and reach consensus.

The Old Machines were surprisingly fast without mass relays to jump, it estimated it will take at least another 8 hours to reach the Sol system.

It let its head droop and body lock in place as it waited for the rest of the journey to complete.

 

\-------

Valtek felt the micro-vibrations of the arms of the Old Machine latching onto what it assumed were the docking clamps.

It walked down and around the superstructure, retracing its steps to the airlock. It saw multiple organics and the geth units following behind it, its towering mobile platform seemed to make organics nervous, which it understood.

It continued to the airlock, glancing around. It was retrieving a very interesting array of data that it would upload the geth Consensus servers later. Tubing followed a gentle seam along the gentle curves of the walls and ceilings, green glows flowed like water over the room, light blue filtered from below the suspended walkways and bounced in very elegant polygons of light threads, the walkways a smooth gray with uncharacteristically imprecise angles of direction.

Then Valtek reached the airlock.

It looked at the airlock. It was less of a door and more of many tiny conjoined plates, light green cybernetics running up and down the frame.

It doesn’t know why it stopped, it was just a door. Outside was just the Citadel. The Citadel that is full of organics who blamed the true geth and not the heretics for the Citadel attacks, the ones who see it as nothing more than a threat to be eliminated. The ones who will possibly shoot it on sight. The organics who, no matter what the geth do, will despise the geth.

It took a step back and let the organics pass it by. It noted the many different species and factions that the Old Machine had let onboard. It saw a turian with blue facial markings for Palaven, holding a scratched piece of armor stained with blue blood. It saw two asari clutching hands, wearing very intricately patterned robes that were as red and rock formations on Rannoch. It observed as a Human helped a Batarian with a limp in its right leg.

It wondered what it was like to be understood. To understand yourself. To not be feared or hated by everyone other than your own kind.

Not everyone, it mused. Commander Shepard, Creator Tali’Zorah, and even Creator Zaal'Koris had shown kindness and partial understanding of the Geth.

It also supposed physical differences really didn’t matter anymore now that they all had green cybernetics running through them.

Then why was it so hesitant, what runtime was delaying it? What subconscious protocol was protecting it? There’s no logical reason. No one truly hates it. No one is going to shoot it.

Everyone is connected now, the frantic chattering across non-verbal but rather cybernetic channels being good evidence. They won’t notice a few synthetics.

It didn’t want to admit it, but Valtek knew it was scared.

Strange, how only a month ago it would have found that impossible, unknowable, “No data available”.

But it came here with a mission, along with the other geth units, who was surprised to see they seemed to be experiencing the same apprehension and nervousness. Nervousness at entering a place which has been classified hostile to help Creators who would have wiped all of the geth out with no regrets.

It once again reminded itself that the geth had no grudge against organics. That they’re no longer that different.

That is the reason it and the other units are here, to mend their relationship with Creators, to do their part in securing peace and a future for all sapient species in the Milky Way.

It reminded itself that this is a new beginning, for everyone.

Valtek shifted its physical form towards the airlock, taking small satisfaction in looking at the extremely graceful and beautiful way the tiny panels of the doors folded and contracted into dodecahedrons against the rim of the airlock frame.

It steeled its physical form, its newfound emotions, and its fragile new perception of the world as it stepped out of the airlock and into the center of peace and cooperation for the whole galaxy.


	2. Aegis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"This"_ is the geth "talking" in digital noise and direct data transfer.

Aegis had come with the other geth units and the Geth Prime Valtek to help a group of Creators who were in need of assistance. 

It was curious about Valtek’s delay at the airlock, as well as the other units it had traveled with. It turned to cybernetic channels at a local frequency, seeing if it was missing communications between the other units, but there was silence. 

Curious.

Finally, Valtek moved and Aegis followed its lead.

When it stepped off the Old Machine, whom Aegis learned called itself Jahtakla, it was confused by how little damage to the dock there was. Either the Crucible didn’t damage this part, or the Keepers and Old Machine’s forces rebuild it at an alarming rate.

It chose not to waste processing power on something so trivial and instead turned its attention back to locating the distressed Creators. 

Valtek had already gone to the very torn, makeshift security checkpoint C-Sec has made. There were several Marauders and Alliance soldiers. The Marauders were communicating with forces passing through and the Alliance soldiers were interacting with the non-Old Machine forces. “Ineffective, but impressive for the limited resources,” Aegis commented when an Alliance soldier came up to the group of geth.

The Alliance soldier just raised his eyebrows. Feeling the human’s hands go over their physical platform was unusual, but not unwelcome. It understood the need for security with peace so fragile and everyone so vulnerable.

The checkpoint was confiscating all firearms and other possible damaging equipment. Aegis and 2 other of the units had been carrying small equipment on their lower back in case the Creators needed assistance with medical needs or tools for hardware problems.

So, naturally, the Alliance soldier saw all the equipment 5 very intimidating geth units and a Geth Prime were carrying and was very concerned. At least that was what Aegis concluded based off of its observations of humans. 

The soldier disappeared behind a ruined wall where the former C-Sec checkpoint was, presumingly checking with his superiors about Aegis and the other geth. A very lanky turian with bright red marking going up his fringe then rounded the destroyed wall and walked right up to Valtek.

Aegis optics twitched. It’s not that it distrusted organics, but the other units had trusted all organics way too quickly. The conflict between synthetic and organic is a very old, long conflict that it doesn’t think organics will let go. Synthesis or not. Aegis trained its optics on the turian, watching for any suspicious movement. 

“What’s going on here?” The officer questioned.

The alliance soldier gestured to the units. “They are packing a lot of equipment. It’s not firearms, and I don’t think they intend harm with the tools, but I wanted to get your opinion, sir.”

The officer looked Valtek up and down.

“Geth don’t usually come here. Why are you here and what do you need with all this equipment?” The officer asked, crossing his arms. Subvocals giving the impression of suspicion, Aegis noted. 

Valtek’s deep voice answered, “I am Valtek. We are here to assist some Crea--I mean quarians, who sent out a distress signal to the fleet before the battle of Earth. We need this equipment for any possible situation that may arise. I promise we are here to do no harm, but if needed we will hand over our equipment.”

The officer seemed to still be suspicious, Aegis noted by his body language. But then the officer whispered something in the soldier’s ear, and the door to the elevator opened. 

Aegis was still suspicious. No organic would just let them through without more confirmation and probably escorts. It will remember to watch C-Sec carefully. It is the security unit for this geth unit squad.

Without another word, Aegis and the other geth stepped into the elevator.

\-----

After passing through a scanner and being inserted into a cramped ward hallway, Aegis took the time to look around at ward. Windows everywhere were busted, keepers scraping up broken glass with clunky vacuums that resembled a geth server docking port. Windows that normally keep the CItadel air from being sucked into space were cracked and shattered, with blue barriers covering them. There were holographic signs everywhere and C-Sec Officers warning not to cross the barrier or disrupt it. 

_“Where are the Creators?”_ Aegis asked, using the more efficient geth digital noise language instead of Khelish (that’s then translated into the recipient's language). 

_“Let’s find out,”_ Valtek answered.


	3. Han

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"This"_ is the geth "talking" in digital noise and direct data transfer.

Han brought up its arm and activated its self-customized Omni-tool. _“The distress signal was tracked to somewhere in the refugee camp area. There is a 95.66 repeating percent chance they sought shelter within a med clinic there.”_

 _“If the Creators were trying to enlist Council support against us or the Old Machines, why would they be in the refugee camps?”_ Questioned Aegis.

Valtek turned towards Aegis and gestured vaguely with its hands. _“They most likely were denied and were forced to seek shelter and food there, as getting off the station was almost impossible when it jumped to Sol System.”_

Valtek halted all movement and stood still, silent.

Han noticed Valtek’s pause in speech and wondered what Valtek was trying to do. Since geth think at the speed of light, for Valtek to be pausing like this must mean it’s processing large amounts of data or trying to reach consensus.

Suddenly, Valtek came back to the present and jerked its head towards Han. 

_“Han,”_ Valtek said. Han looked away from its Omni-tool and to the Geth Prime. _“Can you establish an uplink the Geth Consensus?”_

So it was trying to access the servers, Han thought. _“That will not be possible. Old Machine devices are actively blocking comms and transmissions that are not authorized by the Old Machines. The only way to connect would be through permission of the Council or C-Sec. That is unlikely to happen.”_ Han paused. _“I may be able to help find the information you seek another way. What did you need to access?”_

 _“A complete map of the Citadel, updated in time range 2186 to present,”_ Valtek answered. 

The extranet is probably the most accessible source, it thought, and so Han once again opened its Omni-tool. It entered “citadel_information_help_guide_map_tourist-warning_updates_map” trying to hit as many keywords a possible on the extranet. It entered the filters, bringing up the Citadel help page. Once on the site, it searched the site for “tourist, warning, updated, map, refugee, emergency, housing”. 

315 results showed up for those words. 

Han flew through them easily. Unfortunately, there were no graphical map updates, just a description of the emergency civilian housing plan. 

Just as Han was looking up to inform Valtek, he saw something that it had not seen before, a hologram of an Asari looking figure. He overheard some organics calling it Avina. 

Was the Citadel using AI? No, it’s most likely a VI, Han thought. Without saying anything, Han left the group of geth units and walked towards the entity called Avina, curious about its function

“Welcome to the Citadel, allow me to be your guide,” She said, turning her holographic head towards the approaching Han. So a VI help center, Han thought. This is very useful.

“I need to get to the emergency civilian housing,” Han said plainly.

Its reply was almost automatic, “Emergency civilian housing is located in E24. Please take the elevator to your left down to docking bay E24. If you still can not find E24, please ask a C-Sec officer for assistance,” Avina replied in an almost-organic/almost-synthetic voice that unsettled Han.

Han then looked to its left, to see the elevator 13.68884 meters away. Finally, something happening as is was supposed to, Han thought, relieved. Now I only need to get down there and try to trace the signal as I draw closer. But how? All the interference will be difficult to bypass, thought Han.

Valtek, Aegis, and the other units walked up to Han, curious as to why Han had left. Han then turned around, going to tell the group of its findings. Valtek will probably also be pleased to see an easy route.

 _“Have you found a way to the Creators?”_ Valtek asked.

 _“Yes,”_ Han replied.

 _“How?”_

_“The elevator to your left,”_ Han answered.

Valtek turned toward its left, seeing the elevator being entered by several organics. _“Good. We need to get to the Creators as soon as possible,”_ Valtek stated.

Without another digital noise, the group headed for the elevator.

\-------

The elevator ride was a little awkward since the units had to pack in very tightly. And Han would not really admit but it was very relieved and happy to get out of the crowded elevator. 

Now out of the elevator and in the emergency civilian housing, Han had to tackle the problem of finding the Creators. It became apparent, however, when it walked through the light blue scanner wall that the emergency in bay was small enough to just walk around. 

Why would the housing be this small, just docks E24, E26, and E28? There must be thousands of refugees on the Citadel. There must be multiple locations for refugees. If there were, why would the VI direct it to this one specifically? And what if the Creators weren’t here? 

It decided to quickly check around and hope to find the Creators here. 

So that’s what they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mistakenly put the refugee camp in D24 instead of E24 but that has been fixed.


	4. Visca'Tora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"This"_ is the geth "talking" in digital noise and direct data transfer.

Visca’Tora was following behind Aegis as the group of geth walked in unison to what Visca’Tora could barely call a front desk.

Visca decided to back away from the group as Valtek talked with the desk assistant.

It walked around the empty area, looking at a few organics propped up against the wall. One was on its knees, the other standing and looking down. Visca couldn’t understand why the turian was watching the salarian on the floor. Didn’t most organics physically embrace in times like this? Maybe they were friends and the turian didn’t like physical contact, or the salarian wanted to be alone. 

Visca had been studying organics long before Legion’s sacrifice and synthesis. Now, being on a level of connection it could never think possible, Visca helped with medical needs using the knowledge it had obtained. The organics, despite being a whole new kind of DNA, still had more organic-like-quality bodies, and the natural synthetic healing process could be helped with basic medical attention. That’s why the geth still called them organics. 

Visca wondered if a new terminology would come out. Like Ori-ganic and New-thetic, originally organic and newly synthetic? Or Ori-thetic, like originally synthetic?

How the world has changed.

That’s why it had chosen the name Visca’Tora, so it could be more like the Creators and make them feel more comfortable when it had a Creator or any other organic-esque patient. Another reason Visca doesn’t reveal is that it wanted to feel more organic, too. Geth had just achieved a fully evolved AI status. The geth had just become… alive. And Visca wanted to explore it as much as possible.

Remembering when it had fully awakened into sentience and individuality might have been frightening or overwhelming for most geth units, but Visca had found it exhilarating. It wanted nothing more to dig deep into the feeling of individuality and organic philosophy. 

Pondering its current state of being had preoccupied Visca until its optics had glanced over to a wall of pictures and hunched over organics. 

Visca realized it was a memorial wall of sorts. Several organics were leaning on each other, touching the wall, even crying and physically shaking. Pictures of all different kinds of species, people from different backgrounds, languages of all kinds warped across the wall like caution tape asking for information on the dead and missing.

Visca didn’t know how to analyze this. It had wanted to explore more of its newfound emotions and individuality, but it had always shied away from…. This. Loss. Death. Fear. Hopelessness. Why would organics so badly want to keep emotions when these seemed to dominate any other? The Old Machines had easily destroyed entire species with pure fear and hopelessness. Entire cities lost to panic. Individuals forever stuck in the time of their loss, not moving on from a single moment in their whole lives. 

Why would anyone want that? 

_“Visca!”_

Visca turned 180 degrees sharply.

 _“Follow,”_ Valtek commanded simply. And it walked with the other units towards the converted shipping containers.

Visca followed close behind Aegis, Han at its side and scanning its Omni-tool, most likely for a precise beacon location.

The first container area had a group of batarians running a small shop. Nothing really noticeable, and no Creators, but Visca did take a note on the Batarian preaching about a supposed cultural treasure for him and other batarians called “The Pillars of Strength”. 

Valtek was obviously not interested at all and quickly moved on to the second container area.

 _“Creators located,”_ Aegis instantly said as it rounded the corner.

Visca reached to its back to pull out a small repair kit, specially designed to make temporary repairs to Creator suits. Most likely they will have sustained minor damage and a suit breach but, hopefully, nothing too serious will have happened.

“Get back!” Visca heard only that shout before a Creator ran past Aegis and Han before he tumbled on the floor.

“We are here to assist,” Valtek stated plainly, reaching a hand out to help the Creator up.

“No! Don’t touch me!” The Creator stammered out. Valtek grabbed a hold of the Creator anyway and hoisted him up by his armpits, keeping its hands on him as to stabilize him, and also make sure he doesn’t run off and hurt himself.

The man struggled but ultimately couldn’t make Valtek budge. 

“Shen, I don’t think they’re here to hurt us,” a weak female voice said. 

Visca walked to where it had heard the voice, ready to give assistance if needed. But when Visca laid eyes upon who had spoken, it paused in complete horror. 

The suit she was wearing was completely torn up. Latches busted, suit split and cut, seals unraveled and bent. How she had managed to survive was a miracle.

If only synthesis had cured all ailments, Visca thought with slight sadness. But, just like how the Alliance’s best pilot still had trouble walking, the Creators were still in need of suits until the geth treatment plan had run its course on Rannoch. 

Visca instantly approached the Creator, bring out the tools in its kit. It knelt beside her, bring out a small syringe with antibiotics for where the suit was cut and could not flush antibiotics over it.

Knowing the common fear of needles and the Creators apprehension to trust what the Creator still considered an enemy, Visca tried to make conversation.

“Hello, don’t be afraid, this is just some antibiotics for you. My name is Visca’Tora vas Rannoch, what’s yours?” It said in Khelish.

“Uh, well, my name is, um… Waei’Verrel vas Neema,” she answered sheepishly.

Visca gently inserted the needle into the backward bend behind the knee where the suit had been torn open. Waei winced at the sharp intrusion, but took a couple of deep breaths and calmed down.

I should keep her talking so she doesn’t panic as the other Creator did, Visca thought. It pulled up all known protocols on Creator “small talk”. Many interesting and viable options came pouring in. ‘Ask about where they live or their friend’s location’ seemed to be very common and most applicable to the situation. 

It reached into the case and picked out a small heat rod to partly melt the suit to a plastic sheet to seal it, similar to how a Human would put a bandage on an open wound. “Neema? That is a good ship. You have friends aboard the Neema?” asked Visca as it put the material in place.

“Yes, uh... A couple,” She answered. Suddenly, she sat more upright and got an aura of excitement. “We had just tried some turian ‘poultry’ the night before we left. It was very weird with the texture…” she rambled on, but Visca tuned her out to mend the suit. 

Someone is going to have to deal with that other panicked Creator, it thought absentmindedly as it healed the suit of the excited Creator.


	5. Torak

All of Torak’s runtimes were rapidly trying to reach consensus on what to do with the struggling male Creator. Reason? Force? Plea?

It had all non-essential run times and processes analyzing data on the situation. Reason is the most peaceful and least confrontational action, Torak concluded.

Torak attempted to use plain facts, “Please, don’t resist, the Alliance intercepted your distress beacon and we were sent--” 

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you!” He interrupted, renewing his flailing against Valtek.

He’s getting hysterical, Torak thought. Force is the best option to try to halt the reckless behavior that might hurt him.

Torak approached the flailing Creator the other had called “Shen”, reaching out its hands to steady him. Its hand gripped his shoulders, adding light pressure and pushing down, trying to send a message rather than actually restrict Shen’s movement.

However, when small physical force didn’t stop Shen’s reckless struggling, Torak once again tried to appeal to reason.

“Listen, you have several suit breaches and are most likely running several infections that are making you delirious. Calm down, if we wanted to hurt you we would have simply ignored you and let the infections fester,” Torak explained as it grabbed onto Shen’s shoulders. “And I think your survival and well being are more important than stubborn pride.”

Shen froze in place, face contorted behind the mask he wore. “Did…. di-did you just use ‘I’?” he asked, confused.

“Yes.”

He was obviously so startled by this realization it stopped his panic, Torak noted, and decided to use this moment of pause to deescalate the situation. “What--?” Shen asked before he was dropped back to his feet.

“If you calm down and let Visca’Tora save your life you’ll be able to ask me all the questions you want. Or hit me.” Torak paused for a beat. “Just let us help you,” Torak pleaded with him as he guided the sick man to a sitting position against a container. 

He was still fearful, physically shaking and sweating.

“Just do as it says, Shen,” Waei said, exasperated.

Shen looked frantically between her and the geth units. After a few moments, he seemed to resign himself to the situation. “Fi-fine… but if you even try to hurt me or Waei I’m yelling for security!” Shen threatened, pointing a finger to empty space behind Torak.

“Sure,” Torak said, with a tiny hint of sarcasm.

Visca quickly rushed to Shen’s side and, without any delay, jabbed a needle into Shen’s shoulder. He yelped and whined as Visca put a tiny dot of medi-gel over the shot site to have it heal as fast as possible to prevent worse infections. 

“Hold still please while I mend your suit,” Visca commanded, being a little short with him. 

Shen just nodded wearily.

\-----

“So, first a race of sentient machines hellbent on killing all organic life shows up, then we all get transformed with green circuitry, then geth and quarians live together in peace on Rannoch together, and now all geth are individuals?” Shen said.

“Yes,” Torak replied succinctly. 

“Keelah,” was all he could say as his head leaned back against the container, staring into the torn up ceiling of the docking bay. 

“Wait, do-does that mean--” Waei was about to ask, but Torak had already predicted with a 83 percent chance that she was going to talk about returning to Rannoch. He was going to answer her question but Han interrupted her. “Yes, once you are healthy enough for space flight you will be transported to Rannoch,” answered Han.

“Ancestors,” breathed Waei. “Where will we go? Are there any houses, clinics, ships? Are we still using the ships?” Waei asked, stumbling over her speech from talking so fast.

“I do not completely know what the Creators and the geth are doing to secure our future together on Rannoch, but there has been significant progress in building settlements and creating food supplies along the southern continent,” Torak answered calmly. Torak then added, “Don’t worry, you’ll be taken care of and safe.”

She let out a few deep breaths. “Yeah, yeah, okay. This is just… just so much to take in,” she said. 

Torak looked at her, flapping its brow plates. “The war is over.”

A pregnant pause formed within the small container they were huddled in. 

“Is it beautiful?” Shen asked, breaking the silence. 

“The stones are as red as the sun that beams down upon it. The desert grass stands tall and almost welcoming as if realizing its main carriers were back. The rivers run with clear, clean water through the loose stones that shape the desert like a sculptor on a prized piece,” Visca said, quoting and embellishing poems dating before the morning war.

Why would Visca be so poetic? That’s not really accurate, and it is largely just an emotional description meant to give an emotional response. Torak didn’t understand, but it supposes it doesn’t have to. It wasn’t meant for him.

Torak looked away from Visca towards all the other refugees huddling together, the cybernetics linking them with such intimacy of sharing thought and body, bringing them all closer together. Physically and metaphorically.

Now, we can all breathe the warm air of Rannoch, Torak thought.


	6. Lillae Yurin

Lillae Yurin picked up Shen, hoisting him up so his leg wrapped around its lower back and his head rested on its shoulder. What it had to come to know as a “piggy-back ride” by Humans.

Shen groaned as he was manhandled by Lillae, but said nothing and just rested on the back of the helpful geth. He was so tired and running a fever so high he appreciated the cool exterior of the geth mobile platform.

Lillae was glad to observe less hatred and more trust from the Creators they had helped. It was going to ask if Shen was comfortable, but decided against it. Having a nasty infection and being forced onto a very not soft back of a geth would not be comfortable, and would only further irritate Shen to question him in such a tired state.

It and the other units had done what they had come to do: provide assistance to the Creators and bring them home.

Home… it sounded so strange to Lillae. The homeworld had become almost like a myth, Lillae had observed, and it wondered just how many people truly feel like Rannoch is home. How many people would prefer the nomadic existence aboard ships they had lived with for over 3 centuries over a planet they only heard stories about.

 

Lillae followed the group.

Crowding into the elevator heading to the wards was a predicament with the additional mass currently squeezing Lillae, but Han and Aegis packed themselves between Valtek, Torak, and Visca to give it, Shen, and Waei room.

After reaching the wards, the task of finding a way off the Citadel then to Rannoch was the top priority. 

Lillae was way too thoughtful and smart to not plan this through, though. It had booked a flight with an Old Machine that was flying to Styx Theta and would be making a pass to the Perseus Veil to pick up supplies donated by the Creators to help to rebuild various worlds. In times like this, the Creators knew just how it felt to start with nothing on a world and try to call it home. The generosity was a surprise to many, even to the geth, but welcomed by all.

It approached a terminal against a cracked wall labeled “flights” in messy blue paint on the wall. A poor job, Lillae thought.

Lillae had wanted to make organics more comfortable around it so choosing a name with a first and last name may not be what the Creators linguistics dictate, but what the majority of the Galaxy expects. 

It entered the name “Lillae Yurin” on the terminal and a report came up directing it to where it had pre-booked the flight. The name kept any possible prejudice or suspicion from jeopardizing the geth’s ability to book the flight.

It wondered what it must be like for the Old Machine to be used as a cab. Demeaning? Insulted? Appreciative? Unbothered? 

Lillae snapped away from its unimportant thoughts and focused more on the booking information terminal. 

“Where is our transport?” Valtek asked in Khelish, as to make the Creators more comfortable.

“Bay E18,” it answered, turning its mobile platform 34 degrees to the left. Ahead of Lillae was an elevator that would lead to the E series of docking bays.

Seeing Lillae turn that way, Valtek, Han, Aegis, Visca, Torak, and Waei mimicked the movement. 

They quickly shuffled into the elevator, passing some mildly concerned C-Sec officers and civilian organics.

When the elevator had finally reached bay E18, a very sleek Destroyer Old Machine had an extended leg attached where an airlock would normally be.

“I’m guessing that’s our way out of here?” Waei asked, obviously itching to get away from the Citadel and to Rannoch. Lillae still didn’t understand her excitement. The Migrant Fleet was her home, not Rannoch. Rannoch was the home of the ancestors, just a planet for the modern residents inhabiting it. Home was a sense of belonging, a place where one will always feel welcome and accepted. 

That thought process brought up an interesting question. Do I have a home, Lillae thought.

Lillae thought back to why it choose its name, why no mainstream transports go to the Far Rim or the Perseus Veil. It is not welcomed anywhere. Well, anywhere but the geth’s locations of occupation. 

Perhaps it isn’t the history, the reason to come back, or feeling that defines a home, but the people who it is shared with. Rannoch was just a planet, but with the geth, it was a home. 

Rannoch was just a story, but with the Creators together, it was home.

Lillae boarded the old machine and waited.

\------

Several days and food rations for Waei and Shen later, the Old Machine’s legs hit Rannoch’s soil. Lillae could almost see the excitement flow off of Waei like waves. 

Valtek leads the group through the winding superstructure of the Old Machine, Lillae not hiding at all the staring it was doing at the marvelous engineering. It watched as Shen’s green cybernetics glowed softly. 

Valtek slowly approached the airlock, turning back to face the Creators. “You both are very sick and in need of immediate attention. Please do not get emotional and try to remove your mask or delay your arrival to the emergency clinic, as it may result in death.”

All the geth units could see, however, that they weren’t really listening to Valtek.

Lillae walked up to Shen put its arm around his shoulder to prevent him from falling, and to also make sure Shen doesn’t get himself killed.

Lillae looked at the airlock then back to Shen.

“Are you ready?” Lillae asked softly.

“Yes,” he answered, filled with anticipation.

The airlock opened, and the Geth/Quarian future followed them each home.


End file.
